


Choices We Make

by ObsidianRomance



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Sam, Physical Disability, Wincest - Freeform, graphic birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:40:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidianRomance/pseuds/ObsidianRomance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1099079">"Moves We Take"</a>: Sam and Dean deal with trying to make sure Sam is able to carry their baby to term and the complications that result from Sam's actions in "Moves We Take."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choices We Make

**Author's Note:**

> Awesome banner made by: [Kadysn](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kadysn/pseuds/Kadysn)  
> Wonderful cheerleading and beta help from: [Demondetox](http://archiveofourown.org/users/demondetox)  
> Advice, story line cleaning up and betaing from the lovely: [Cappy712](http://cappy712.livejournal.com/)

[ ](http://s870.photobucket.com/user/ObsidianRomance/media/ChoicesWeMake-OR_zps40abcd76.jpg.html)

Guilt was destroying Sam.

It wasn’t the guilt that he’d hid his pregnancy from Dean for five months, although that was making Sam want to walk off the face of the earth. He’d never kept something so monumental from Dean before. It became hard to side with the part of him that knew he did it because he was scared and because, in some roundabout way, he thought he was protecting Dean. He was too hung up on the fact that he’d lied, regardless of the reasons. When he’d seen Dean touch his swollen belly, tiptoeing his fingers over the curve of it with so much watchfulness that Sam couldn’t mistake how much Dean cared, it twisted the pang of guilt in his heart. As intense as that was, it wasn’t the worst of what he was trying to come to terms with.

What was killing him was the guilt and fear that he’d probably hurt his baby.

Lying to Dean had been an emotional wrongdoing. Throwing himself at a werewolf while over five months pregnant was a physical misstep and a foolish one at that.

At first, he thought it was simply guilt that was making him feel like he was drowning. Everything hurt, inside and out.

Dean was brooding. Mostly, when Sam was awake, he paced. He threw Sam mixed looks of concern and frustration. Though it looked like he wanted to say something, he didn’t. He’d spent the first few days letting Sam heal and checking the wounds he’d stitched. He stared at Sam for long periods of silence before turning his back on the situation and cleaning weapons they both knew were clean enough.

Sam broke the silence between them. He’d been so nervous to do so that he’d thrown up, blaming it on the baby to save face. He apologized, words tumbling out of his mouth like he couldn’t control them. The words were as uncontrollable as the tears that came with them. He ended up crying and whatever wall that had been building between them crumbled to the ground.

Dean knew Sam was built on good intentions and as much as he disagreed with Sam’s logic, he understood how the miscommunication between them lead to lies and hiding.

Sam cried until he couldn’t breathe and Dean crawled into bed beside him, holding him tight and not complaining when Sam rubbed his tear streaked, snotty face on his shoulder.

Everything inside of Sam felt like it was too misrouted and it would never be right again. He couldn’t get out of the feeling, as much as he tried to. He clutched onto Dean’s arm and fear that he’d lose everything he loved made him panic every time his older brother tried to get out of bed.

Dean kept a firm grip on Sam after that. He spooned him, nuzzled his nose into his younger brother’s hairline, and fitted their bodies together enough to anchor Sam. He cupped Sam’s belly and told him that he was excited about the baby.

Those words were enough to let Sam sleep without waking from a nightmare.

Only, with Dean wrapped around him like a bandage, Sam woke up with a start from a sharp pain.

“Fuck!” He tried to push upwards into a sitting position but Dean’s weight turned the action into little more than a false start.

“Sammy?” Dean stared at his brother, sitting up so as to free Sam.

Sam felt like the wind had been knocked out of him all over again but this time it wasn’t because of a blow to the chest. Pain spread across his abdomen and intensified to the point that he squeezed his eyes closed and gasped.

“Sam!” Grabbing the sides of Sam’s face, Dean tried to force his brother to look at him. “What? What is it?”

“Hurts,” was all Sam could get out before the pain was back. It was different than any of the other pains he’d experienced in his life because it came from inside and piggybacked on the wave of guilt and fear he’d been riding. It wasn’t stemming from the tender wounds on his arm and shoulder. The pain was coming from his distended middle and he didn’t need a doctor to tell him that it wasn’t the type of pain he could brush off. Everything felt compressed, condensed down to that huge secret he’d kept. Choking on words, he took several loud swallows of air before speaking. “I need…can you….help?” His eyes quivered and made a frantic sweep of the room. “Can you…bathroom?”

“Yeah.” Dean hooked an arm under Sam’s good shoulder and bore most of his younger brother’s weight, getting him to his feet and helping him make a slow shuffle towards the bathroom.

As weird as some things were between them, having Dean help him now wasn’t one of them. They’d been around each other for so long and nursed each other through every type of injury that helping Sam use the toilet was part of their normal.

What wasn’t normal, was the way Sam’s heart lodged itself in his throat when he saw thinned blood, yellowed with something other than the usual makeup, on the insides of his thighs.

Sam’s breath hitched, and then picked up to the point where he felt dizzy. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” For as much research as he’d done on the sly, he had no idea what was happening. “Fuck, Dean!” His legs wobbled and he grabbed onto Dean for support. The whole three days had made him feel like a pathetic little kid but that exact moment made him feel even more useless, like he wasn’t good at anything. He hadn’t made the right decisions about being pregnant and now he couldn’t keep his and Dean’s baby alive.

It made him shiver uncontrollably. He was falling apart in so many ways, barely held together by Dean’s messy stiches and his brother’s hands on his shoulders.

“It’s…it’s okay,” Dean whispered but neither believed it.

Looking the way he did, Sam knew he couldn’t walk into any respectable hospital without too many questions.

Not going to a hospital was shaping up to be something just as dangerous.

“We can,” Dean started breathing heavier, repeating himself several times as he thought it out. “We’re in Rockford…we’re just a twenty minute drive from Dulcen …there…there’s…” Dean ran a shaking hand over his face, tapering his fingers in a slow draw down his chin. “There’s a clinic there…a…it’s a free clinic run by the daughter of one of dad’s hunter friends. It…it’s listed under the “Safe Places to Go” page in dad’s journal.” He nodded slightly in need for Sam to believe him that the clinic would solve everything. “We’ll go there….they won’t ask about the claw marks.”

Fear made Sam lose his tongue and all he could do was nod. He’d been shouldering his pregnancy alone for so long that he was happy to let Dean take control. Things were always better when Dean was driving.

While Dean got the car ready, Sam sat on the bathroom floor, staring at his fingers which were stained red from trying to pinpoint the source of the bleeding. He couldn’t reach up high enough to fix what his foolishness had broken.

The ride to Dulcen took more than twenty minutes but either way it would have felt like an eternity to Sam.  He didn’t know if he was still bleeding but his mind was stuck on feeling wetness between his legs, regardless.

“I got you,” Dean said as he helped Sam out of the car. “We’re going to make this okay.”

Sam knew all versions of “okay” in Dean’s mind focused on making sure Sam was safe and sound. For Dean’s sake, Sam had adopted that version of okay. Now, however, Sam wasn’t sure he’d be okay if the baby wasn’t.

For something he wasn’t sure he wanted in the first place, now that he’d felt Dean’s palm against his middle and felt the baby kick inside him, Sam couldn’t want anything more.

He put on a brave face and kept his legs under him. It wasn’t cold but Dean had bundled him up in an extra hoodie and Sam clung to the fabric like it had some way of keeping him together. The hoodie had shielded him from his fears for so long and he hoped it had a little more magic left to offer.

“Dean…what if it doesn’t matter. If…If it can’t be fixed and it’s all my fault because –”

“Stop it! It’s…it’s not your fault. Not really. You were doing what you had to do to save me, remember? You…”  Dean pulled Sam closer and paused before they walked through the door of the clinic. “We’re not fighting over that again. You hear me?”

Sam nodded but the protest was already building up inside him. “I want this baby.”

“Me too,” Dean added without missing a beat.

The certainty of Dean’s answer made the whole situation more painful for Sam.

They walked into the clinic and every set of eyes landed on them. Sam was sure they must have been a sight. His face was banged up from the werewolf attack and Dean was holding onto him like a grizzly bear.

A woman in a high dirty blonde ponytail and glasses swung her head their way. Pursing her lips in mental calculation, she headed towards them. “Come with me.” She went to put a hand on Dean’s shoulder to guide him towards the back but decided against it at the last minute and nodded reassuringly instead. “Come on,” she repeated and gestured towards a room with her chin.

Both Winchesters followed her in silence, rushing away from the curious eyes trying to make heads or tails of them. Sam wanted to disappear or fall asleep until everything was over and he didn’t have to worry about a life who’s outcome was slipping out of his hands.

“You’re hunters.” The woman stated once she’d led them into the room. She stared at their confused faces and sighed. “You have the look. I can tell. We see enough of your types around here to pick up that someone needs the kind of help that they can’t openly ask for.”

“Our types?” Dean spat back, pushing his weight in front of Sam while still holding onto his brother.

The woman put both hands up in apology. “Oh, I meant no offence! My father is…was…a hunter. I…I’m just sayin’…I’ve seen a lot.” She looked at the ground for a moment before shaking her head. “I’m Kiley, the doctor who runs this place.”

“You’re Tim’s daughter.” Dean stated.

“Yeah…I,” Kiley paused and pointed a finger at Dean as if trying to place him. “Did you know my dad?”

“Me? No. My father did though. John. John Winchester.” Licking his lips, Dean surveyed the room.

“You’re Sam and Dean!” Kiley shouted louder than need be. She covered her mouth with a yelp. “I’m sorry. That was rude. It’s just…I…I’ve heard of you.” She composed herself and brushed off her white lab coat. “I knew your father, even treated him a few times. I was sorry to hear about his passing.”

“Thanks. He…uhh mentioned that it was safe here. That you’d fix a hunter up, no questions asked –” Dean’s words ended with a sudden gasp as he felt Sam’s knees buckle and more of his weight land in Dean’s control. “Sammy!”

“Woah!” Kiley moved to Sam’s side automatically, helping Dean in keeping him on his feet.

Having a stranger in such close proximity made Sam’s skin prickle. He was so far out of his comfort zone that he couldn’t think straight. A flush of embarrassment hit his cheeks for practically collapsing in front of a woman he didn’t know, a woman who seemed to be fascinated by the Winchesters heroic exploits only moments ago. Some hero he was.

Cutting through the small talk, Dean swung Sam into his arms and deposited him on an exam table without direction. “He’s hurt.” The words left Dean’s mouth sounding as vague as the situation.

Something on Kiley’s face changed in an instant. She was all professionalism and drive. “What happened?” she asked as she snapped on a pair of gloves from the dispenser to her right.

“Werewolf attack.” Dean stated as he smoothed back Sam’s hair. “I…uh…I patched him up but…”

“I’m pregnant,” Sam finished for him because it was his burden to unload and the words had been bottled up in him for so long that he needed to say them. Distantly, he was glad Dean hadn’t gone into detail about how it wasn’t much of a werewolf attack and more of a Winchester ambush. He already felt like the world’s worst potential parent; he didn’t need judgment from people who barely knew him.

“How pregnant?”

“Almost six months …I think…I don’t really know.” Sam’s voice cracked. The pain he’d been feeling in his middle was gone and he wasn’t sure what that meant. He blinked wet eyes at Kiley while he spoke. “I…I don’t know and now I’m bleeding…there. And it hurt so bad before, like everything was tight and…just…I don’t wanna lose the baby and now it isn’t moving and I…I…I…” He broke off into a hic-cry and tried to gulp down a breath. “I got kneed in the stomach, kneed hard.”

Kiley didn’t pry. If she’d judged Sam, it was the silent kind and Sam could live with that as long as she did something about his situation.

“Okay.” She nodded twice and let out a slow breath. “Okay,” she repeated. “Lay back, alright? I’m gonna help you get these jeans off,” she paused as if remembering Dean’s presence in the room. Looking between both brothers, she landed a sympathetic look on Sam. “Listen, I’m going to have to get up close and personal with the problem. It’s going to be a little intimate, so…if you want privacy….”

“No!” Sam shouted. Numbly, he realized how odd it must seem to Kiley that he’d want his brother around for such a personal matter. He and Dean had merged so well that sometimes he forgot other people weren’t in on it. “No! Dean stays.”

“Not going anywhere, Sam.”

Sam rolled his head towards Dean and bit his lip. Without having to ask for it, Dean took Sam’s hand in his and gave Kiley a protective glower. The gesture thumped out a bundle of nerves building in Sam’s gut but there were plenty more on its heels.

“’Kay.” Kiley rucked up Sam’s shirt to get to the waist of his jeans and sucked in a breath when she encountered the wound there. “Jesus!” Her fingers didn’t shake but they skittered over the scab like the thought of its existence pained her. The rest of the process was done in silence. She hooked Sam’s legs into stirrups at the base of the table and put a hand on the inside of Sam’s thigh so as not to startle him with the next part. “You’ve got some blood here…but I think,” cutting herself off she gave Sam a smile. “I’ve gotta look a little closer to see what’s going on, okay? I know it’s going to be uncomfortable, but I think…” She stopped speculating and continued her exam.

Sam flinched when he felt her touch him, foreign tiny fingers exploring and tucking inside him. Instinctively, he clutched Dean’s hand and tensed up. He received a “tsk” from Kiley and forced himself to relax for the baby’s sake. He couldn’t watch Kiley work, instead he focused on the way Dean was rubbing a thumb over his knuckles, callouses catching on each numb.

Kiley pulled away without explanation and tossed her bloodied gloves in the garbage. “I need to do an ultrasound. You haven’t had one of those before, have you?”

“No.”

“It’s probably going to hurt a little, considering I have to roll the transducer around that wound on your belly, but it’s safe. Promise.” She swung a cart that had been tucked against the wall towards the exam table and flicked it on. “Sorry if it’s cold,” she added as she squirted a dollop of gel on Sam’s stomach.

Tucking his head to the side, Sam buried his face in Dean’s middle, hiding from the screen Kiley was so focused on. It was getting hard to breathe and the room felt too hot. His heart rate spiked and he squeezed Dean’s hand tight enough to dig his nails in.

“Gotcha,” Kiley muttered to herself as she located the profile of a fetus. Her features were tense in concentration as she moved the wand over Sam’s middle, trying to mind his stitches. “The baby’s okay for now.”

“Really?” It was Dean’s voice but Sam was thinking the same thing.

“Yeah. It’s a little small…well...a lot small but it’s,” she flicked a switch and a whooshing sound filled the room. “It’s okay for now. Heartbeat is a little erratic but I’m guessing Sam’s is too.”

“That’s its heartbeat?” Sam wrenched his face out of hiding and stared wide eyed at Kiley. Every part of his brain had succumbed to thinking the worst, to thinking he fucked up again. Even with the audio proof, it was hard to believe what the woman was saying to him.

“Yeah. See, look.” She pointed to the screen and a tiny face worked its lips in what looked to be a yawn. She tapped a portion underneath that was pulsing. “That’s the heart. It’s strong.”

“But the blood….” Sam caught himself staring at the person growing inside of him that he’d known was there all along but couldn’t picture. The realness of the situation would have landed him on his ass if he wasn’t lying down.

“Yeah, the blood.” Kiley frowned. “It looks like you’ve suffered a partial amniotic sac rupture. From what I can tell, it’s not the end of the line. Actually…it can heal itself if you have enough rest. The amnion is ruptured but not the chorion. You were leaking amniotic fluid and blood, which sometimes happens. You’re lucky, though. The baby looks okay.”

Sam dissolved into tears, big loud ones that left him gulping down lungsful of air. “Don’t fuck with me.”

“I’m not.  Swear.” Kiley smiled and sucked in her lips. “Sam, I swear, the baby’s okay. I hope you killed the blasted werewolf that did this to you because that baby is luckier than you know.” She smiled again when the only response Sam could give her was another round of loud cries. “I’m guessing you haven’t had much in the way of prenatal care.”

“None,” Dean answered without taking his eyes off the screen. He cocked his head to the left and right, trying to make sense of the seeming static. “That’s a baby?”

“Yeah. See, the head is over here and that’s the nose and mouth. That pearl necklace looking thing is the spine and that’s,” she paused and smiled. “Wanna know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

Sam never thought he’d get so far that the decision would even be an option. He’d honestly never thought about how he’d answer that question and at the current moment he didn’t care either way.

Dean, apparently, cared. “No…I…”  He looked down at Sam, eyes a storm of emotions in some type of explanation. “You know, in case something happens…then…”

Then they don’t get too attached, Sam’s brain provided for him. He supposed that was why he never thought about the gender or what their kid would look like. There was at least some bliss in ignorance.

Kiley didn’t push it. “Well, those are the legs. Two very kicky legs. You feel the movement now, right?”

“Wha?” Sam shook himself out of his thoughts. “Oh, yeah. Now I do. But I didn’t for a while.”

“Baby feels what you feel, Sam. You gotta…” She sighed and smiled sadly. “Listen, you don’t know me from a hole in the wall but you gotta take care of yourself. The baby? It’s small. Not too small that it won’t bounce back but…well…you gotta take care of yourself. Hunting and pregnancy never belong in the same sentence. You’re big boys, you can do what you want and most likely will but if you wanna give this little one a chance, you gotta take a step down. If you panic, Sam, the baby does too. Right now, that little miracle needs you to rest. It needs you to eat and it needs you to steer the fuck clear of werewolves. Or any of your other usual prey, for that matter.”

Sam knew every word out of the woman’s mouth was absolutely true. He knew he’d been negligent but wondered at what cost. “I can’t do this.” He smacked away the transducer and scrambled to sit up. The action resulted in a pain filled groan. “I…I can’t.”

“Woah, Sammy.” Dean crouched down so that he was eyelevel with his brother’s reclining form. “Of course you can. Look what you’ve been doing? You heard Kiley. That baby’s lucky to be alive. That can’t all be luck. You’ve got something to do with that too. You’re protecting it, just like you’ve always got my back. There is nothing you can’t do. Nothing we can’t do. You hear me?” He cupped a palm to Sam’s cheek and shook it slightly to emphasize his point.

“But…I…What if I can’t? I mean…the rupture and the blood and I didn’t take care of myself the way I should have. What if everything turns out wrong because I fucked up?”

“The kid’s been taking what it needs from you regardless of if you were taking care of yourself,” Kiley interjected. “True, any doctor would recommend you up your diet and gain some weight but…” She hummed in thought. “You throwing up a lot?”

“All the time.”

“It makes sense then. Some people who have severe morning sickness drop a lot of weight until around this point in their pregnancy. You’re no different from other people. I mean, you are but…unless you keep throwing yourself into physically dangerous situations, you’re not going to cognitively fuck up. Sometimes the human body is more resilient than you think and that includes unborn babies. Have some faith.”

Sam snorted. “We can’t pay you,” he whispered, like it explained everything.

“Wouldn’t accept your money even if you had it.” Kiley shrugged. “I don’t charge hunters. Never did. I’m not gonna start now.” Glancing at her watch, she quirked her lips to the side. “Listen, I need to check on some other patients but I’d like you to stay the night or at least a few more hours. I want to get some fluids into you, maybe some antibiotics to make sure no bacteria gets into the rupture. And I want you to take it easy. Like bed rest easy. Start practicing now for what you’re going to be doing for the next month or so. Can you do that? Can you stick around?”

Sam looked to Dean for a quick burst of reassurance before nodding.

“Good. Here. I printed this out before,” Kiley smiled and held an ultrasound scan photo out towards Dean. “You two have a lot of thinking to do,” she added before walking away and slipping out the door.

Dean turned the picture over in his hands, rotating it twice before his lips broke into a wider grin. “Oh, there’s the head.” Without Kiley around, Dean’s walls came down and he oozed sentiment while taking in his child’s form. “Sam, the baby’s okay.”

“Yeah.” Sam sat up, slowly this time so he didn’t see stars. He used the paper towels beside him to carefully wipe of the gel from his stomach. “I’m so sorry, Dean! I’m so sorry it almost wasn’t okay.” He felt like an alien had taken up residence in his brain because he couldn’t find a way to pull himself together and act like a reasonable man.

“Shh,” Dean frowned and got so close to Sam that he didn’t need more than a whisper to communicate. “No more apologizing. Okay? Please? I know you’re sorry and it hurts like hell that you kept this from me but you? You’re hurting too right now. It was hard for you too. I get that. So, promise me we’re in this together from now on? Please?”

“No one else I’d wanna be in it with. Just…remind me sometimes. Okay? I get…”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. You get all Sammy,” Dean teased with a brush of their lips. “We’re gonna have a baby.” The words left his mouth with absolute certainty and determination.

They were infectious because as terrified as Sam was, he wanted what Dean said. “Yeah. “Baby. Us.” Sam’s sentences were stunted, like his thought waves were but they both got the point.

**************

Sam decided, early on, that bed rest was worse for Dean than it was for him.

While Sam was trying his best to do nothing, he was at peace with it. As much as he’d adapted to hunting with Dean, there were parts of him that were tired of bouncing around the continent. Staying in one place came at just the right time. He needed it as much as his and Dean’s baby did. Physically staying in one place didn’t make him feel lazy; it made Sam feel like he was taking a more active role in his pregnancy.

Dean, however, was left to hover. Unlike Sam, Dean doing nothing had no effect either way on the baby. Being trapped in a motel room made Dean so antsy that Sam could practically see the urge to get something done crawling under his brother’s skin.

The fact that Dean stayed and didn’t act on his knee jerk reaction to roam made something warm and safe spread through Sam. His brother found other things to do, like tend to Sam’s healing wounds and making sure he ate as close to the diet plan Kiley had scribbled down for them.

After a week, it was Sam who decided they should get in the Impala and drive. He rationalized that sitting in the car would be the same as sitting in a bed. Plus, he was done being stuck in the impersonality of motel rooms.

Finding a place to stay for a few months wasn’t hard. Sam knew Bobby wouldn’t throw them out. He also knew they’d be in for a laundry list of questions and “idgits” but he’d let them stay.

Dean agreed. They took the drive once Dean snipped Sam’s stitches and deemed him healed enough to face Bobby without fear of a whooping for not protecting his baby brother enough. Though, once Bobby figured out they’d been hunting for months while Sam was pregnant, the whooping was inevitable.

They called Bobby and fed him some vague story about needing to crash for a few months that no one actually believed. Being on the road with a destination that held nothing more dangerous than heartburn and wisecracks felt good.

Sam stretched out in the passenger’s seat in an old t-shirt that still fit but rode up enough to expose a sliver of skin when he shifted. Without layers of clothing to hide behind, Sam found Dean staring at his middle like they both couldn’t believe it was there. Now that it wasn’t a secret, Sam swore his belly was bigger. He swore that putting it on display made the baby rally and prove that it was just as much a force to be reckoned with as its daddies.

For Sam, each passing day helped shed a layer of the façade he’d built up. He felt lighter than he had in days. Since he wasn’t spending all his energy trying to sneak around Dean and pretend he wasn’t pregnant, he was able to realize that he was pregnant.

They drove to Bobby’s, one of Dean’s hands curled around the steering wheel and the other on Sam’s belly.

What took Dean months to realize about Sam only took Bobby one glance. He’d begrudgingly ushered them inside with a, “Balls, boys. What have you two gone and gotten yourselves into?”

Bobby didn’t ask questions. He put Dean to work in the salvage yard and left Sam to his own devices with a “you know what you need to do” look. He pieced things together on his own, everything finally clicking into place a week after they’d been there. Sam knew exactly when it happened, he’d seen the realization wash over Bobby’s face before he was able to mask it with a snort.

Dean hadn’t made any attempt to hide that he was mother henning Sam and if Bobby had a problem with the not so brotherly touches and more than uncle-ish concern Dean had over the baby, he showed little more than surprised eyebrow raises and unintelligible mutterings.

Sam and Dean never followed anybody’s rules. They supposed their relationship couldn’t truly have caught Bobby off guard.

At Bobby’s, life was easier. They’d found a new doctor who specialized in high risk pregnancies and surprisingly, both Winchesters liked him instantly.  He was good, they knew that.  Sam had read up about him and Dean decided to trust his gut in judging the man’s character.

Sam still worried about everything that was going on inside of him but this time he wasn’t doing it alone. Dean dove in so completely that it shocked Sam and if he wasn’t so touched by his brother’s dedication he’d almost feel suffocated by the role Dean stared to play.

He wanted to know everything and not just the basics. He didn’t take the fast and easy way out. He read and questioned and harassed their poor new doctor until Sam was afraid he’d be receiving a call soon saying he’d have to go to another obstetrics practice.

Other than going to doctor’s appointments, they were both stuck with doing a whole lot of waiting to see if Sam would be able to carry to term.

Sam didn’t mind bed rest but he hated waiting. There were too many unknowns that came with prolonged waiting, most of which he was reading on a website he was certain could only induce fear in any pregnant person, let along someone in his position.

Laptop propped on his belly, Sam reclined against the headboard. According to the site he was reading, he, Dean and their little hitchhiker had overcome a staggering number of odds already but there were even more in their path.

“Hey, Sammy, you okay?” Dean asked as he came into the room wringing his hands on a towel. He had a smear of something ashy on his cheek that matched the ones littering his clothing.

Startled, Sam blinked at Dean before shaking his head with a smile. “Yeah, I’m just reading something.”

“Anything good?”

“Ohh, you know…just…how many setbacks our kid could deal with if the amniotic sac ruptures completely.” He brushed his hand in the air like the comment wasn’t as heavy as it was.

“But, you’re okay, right? You’re feeling okay?” Dean dropped the towel and the mattress beside Sam dipped as he took a seat, gently closing the laptop and hiding the terrifying words from Sam.

“Still cooking,” Sam said with a gesture to his middle before placing both palms on each side of his belly.

Dean cocked his head at the sight of his brother using his stomach as a table. “You sure that’s safe? I mean, couldn’t your computer send all these waves of…of…of stuff towards the baby?”

Sam laughed. “A Wi-Fi signal? You’re worried our baby’s caught up in a Wi-Fi signal? Like that’s the worst thing it’s had to deal with.” The reminder that came with those words made Sam regret them instantly. “It’s…It’s fine. ‘Kay?” He shrugged, grabbing the closed laptop and moving it to the nightstand. “It’s…oouf!” His eyes flew to his middle as the baby landed the strongest kick he’d felt thus far. He didn’t need to look up to know that Dean was already on guard but he squashed any panic by grabbing Dean’s hands and pressing them towards where he felt the kick.

“Sam, wha?”

“Baby’s moving. A lot. Feel it?”

“No.” Dean sucked in his lip.

“It’ll happen again.”

They waited in silence for a while without any repeat performances. Dean tried to pull away as time ticked by long enough to make feeling the baby move seem futile. “This is stupid.”

“It’s not.” Sam held Dean’s hands against him and pressed harder. “Talk to it.”

“What?”

“Talk to it.”

“Sam this,” Dean yanked one hand away and scratched uncomfortably at the back of his head. “It’s okay. It never moves much when I touch you.”

Taking a deep breath, Sam sighed. That wasn’t necessarily true but Dean hadn’t been able to feel a majority of the movements Sam had been feeling for months. “Just…talk to it.”

“That’s stupid, Sam.”

“What’s stupid? Talking to your kid is stupid?”

“No! That’s not what I mean!” Dean growled and rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He cleared his throat and looked down at Sam’s middle. “Hi, kiddo. You okay in there?” He instinctively paused as if waiting for a response before realizing how silly that seemed. “This is stu-” The rest of the word was swallowed down in a gulp when he felt something pressing outward against the center of his palm. It was soft but undeniable. “Woah.”

“Yeah.”

Dean shimmied onto the bed so that he was laying belly down between Sam’s splayed legs. He propped himself up on his elbows so as to slide Sam’s shirt up and over the curve of his belly. “Hi, little guy…or girl.” Gently, he touched Sam’s stretched skin and ran soothing circles around it with drawn out swipes of his palms. “You hanging in there?” He laughed when he felt a kick follow immediately. “That’s a yes,” he said with a half-smile as he looked up at Sam.

“Oh, is it?” Sam asked lightly. Taking in the way Dean softened as the movement’s continued made Sam so happy; he couldn’t put a finger on why this moment was affecting him so much. He combed his fingers through Dean’s hair and gave a loving scratch to the man’s scalp, sighing contently.

“It’s so weird Sam, you know? Like…for me? This,” Dean gestured towards the swell protecting their baby, “wasn’t there. And then it was. And now? Now it’s all I can think about. All the time.” He nuzzled Sam’s middle, stubble catching on the sensitive skin there.

Sam’s instinct was to apologize. Again.  He knew it would only piss Dean off. Instead, he kept strumming Dean’s hair and wished every day could be this simple, that they could feel at peace like they did now.

“Man, you got bigger.”

Sam thumped Dean on the side of the head. “Thanks, jerk!” he quipped with dripping sarcasm.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant like…like there really is a kid in there, huh?”

“I sincerely hope so.” Sam softened again and let the tension leave as quickly as it came, sinking back into the bed. He nudged Dean with his knee and whined. “Don’t stop. Feels good.” He whined a second time. “Baby likes it.”

“Baby keeps kicking you when I talk to it. Can’t imagine that feels good.” Dean dropped another kiss to Sam’s middle, right above his belly button. Despite his comment, he picked up rubbing circles up and around Sam’s stomach.

“I said it feels good…don’t worry about the kicking. That feels good too…like it’s letting us know it’s okay.” He practically purred when Dean rucked up his shirt higher and scooted closer, resting his cheek in the crook where Sam’s thigh met his hip. The position let him nuzzle in deeper and his voice travel towards their baby.

“You gonna make me talk to you all afternoon?” Dean’s lips nibbled at Sam’s skin as he spoke. The baby shifted and rolled against Dean’s lips making the man laugh. “That’s incredible.”

“Hmm,” Sam sighed and closed his eyes. He felt warmth spread over his body, starting from where Dean’s lips were touching him and fanning outward. It felt more than good. Until Dean had touched him like that he hadn’t realized how starved he was for it.

“Uhh, Sammy?” Dean shifted and rolled his eyes up to look at his brother. “Getting poked at by more than our kid.”

Sam flushed and covered his eyes with one hand. “‘s been a long time and I’m hornier than I’ve been in a years.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. So…gimme me a break, ‘kay?” Sam felt his cheeks burning. Normally, he wouldn’t feel so awkward about it but letting Dean touch his belly like that was a new thing for them and he had no idea where it fell on their spectrum. He was used to sex with Dean but not with something literally growing between them.

“Can give you more than a break.” Dean kissed Sam’s stomach, letting his lips drag slowly across the swell as he drew out the affectionate gesture.

“Can’t have sex, Dean. It’s on the ‘no-go’ list of things.” Sam sighed loudly when he felt Dean’s kisses drag upwards.

“You like this, huh?”

“Mmm hmm.” Sam curled his fingers into Dean’s hair before flicking them outward and stretching them straight in pleasure. He felt Dean’s hands on him, gentle and tender like he’d never felt them before.

“God, missed you Sammy. You know that, right? I just…well I was too…” Dean sighed and left a slow kiss on the top of Sam’s belly.

“…too scared. I get it. Me too.” He curled a hand at the base of Dean’s skull and tugged upward gently. “Com’ere.”

Dean complied and shimmied up the bed so he was lying on his side, facing Sam. “You com’ere.” Cupping Sam’s jaw, he pulled him in for a kiss. Their lips worked together and sent a jolt of electricity down Sam’s spine, reminding him that they were so much stronger together than they could ever be apart. Dean let out a satisfied grunt and tugged Sam closer, curving his body so he could leave space for Sam’s belly as their legs scrambled to intertwine.

Dean’s mouth felt hot against Sam’s, each dip of his older brother’s tongue leaving him gasping. He’d missed the way Dean made him feel, the way they’d perfected kissing so that any other person wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Dean,” Sam murmured against Dean’s lips for just a moment before the distance between them zapped out of existence and their hands were all over each other.

The positioning was odd, but Dean yanked his own jeans off, kicking them to the floor before he got a hand in Sam’s sweats and fisted the arousal growing there. “Fuck, Sam.” His words were drawn out and slow, made heavy by lust. He ran a finger over the head of Sam’s cock and swiped away a droplet of moisture. “So hard already.”

“Hormones. Baby. Crazy.” Sam offered as a pathetic excuse for an explanation. Really, it was all he could get out because he refused to pull his lips away from Dean’s for more than one second, preferring to nip at his bottom lip and then seal their mouths together in a bruising kiss that took the breath out of both of them.

As cryptic as it may have been, Dean seemed to like that answer and smiled against Sam’s kiss. He slid a hand down Sam’s hip and hooked a thumb over the waist of his sweatpants, yanking them down in a swift slide.

Mostly, Sam let Dean drive, like he realized he always should at the current moment. He focused on kissing Dean but realized his brother had stripped them both and was palming at his dick with a lube slicked palm.

They lurched towards orgasm in a messy blur.

By far, it wasn’t their best work, but Dean managed to fit himself between Sam’s legs so that their dual arousals slid against each other. The moves weren’t sloppy, they were calculated and left Sam without any doubt that Dean was consciously thinking of keeping their baby safe.

Groaning, Sam arched into Dean’s hand. He felt weeks of tension and distance between him and Dean parting to make way for the surge of pleasure and adrenaline he felt when Dean fisted both of their lengths in his hands, using the added pressure and flick of his thumb to tumble Sam over the edge.

Sucking in a breath, Sam’s mouth fell open his eyes squeezed shut as he came over his brother’s fist in pulses so strong that they’d surprised him. “Dean!” He threw his arms around the man’s shoulders and buried his face in his neck, hips jolting like they’d been electrocuted. He felt Dean reposition himself and rock against his thigh before the older man tensed and let out a punch of air and hot ropes of his release landed on Sam’s middle.

Laughing in between loud gasps for air, Sam looked down at the mess they’d made. “That is more than a break.” He swirled a finger through the splash of Dean’s come on his belly. “Christ, you…”

Dean snorted. “You underestimate how much I like making you fall apart.”

“Then by all means, feel free to make me fall apart whenever you want.” He laughed again and buried his face in Dean’s neck. “It’s okay…right? I mean…you think it’s okay? With the rupture and all?”

It took a minute for Dean’s brain to switch over from playful banter to serious talk. “I think it’s fine, Sam. I did all the work, and don’t bitch at me for that. I did all the work because I wanted to. You just laid back and enjoyed it, which sounds like it coincides with the idea of bed rest.” He curled an arm under Sam’s belly. “This kid? It’s going to be alright. You gotta believe that.”

“No…I know….it’s just…It’s hard. You know? I’m afraid of so many things not working out. Not everything is easy for us. You know that. I just – ” Sam shut up when Dean kissed him.

“Baby’s gonna be fine. Don’t leave me alone in thinking that. Don’t shut me out. Don’t do that again.” Dean’s voice was soft as he knocked their heads together.

“I’m not. I won’t! You’ll make sure it’s okay, right?” Sam knew it was an impossible request to ask of his brother but the words tumbled out of his mouth anyway. “God, you will, right?”

“Yeah. I will,” Dean responded without a moment’s hesitation.

Sam wished he was so certain.

**********

Sam was dreaming of the werewolf attack.

He dreamt the creature’s claws had cut him from sternum to pelvis in one deep stripe, splitting him open and spilling his insides out along with a tiny fetus.

He felt the hot blood pooling around him, making him want to scream and throw up at the same time. The liquid running down his thighs was inescapable and made him feel like he was sinking into it.

He woke with a scream.

Gasping for breath and choking on gulps of air, he couldn’t shake the feeling of sitting in his own blood.

“It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.” He closed his eyes and let his head drop into his hands. He tried to focus on pushing the nightmare away and forgetting the wetness underneath him. It didn’t exist.

Except, it did.

What Sam was feeling was real, in some sense. He was in the room he and Dean were using at Bobby’s. He was alone for the time being but the pillow next to him had signs that Dean hadn’t been gone too long. There was no trace of the werewolf and Sam knew there never would be. The bastard was dead.

There was no gutting wound down his middle but there was something warm and wet underneath him.

Peeling back the sheets, the weak morning light helped Sam realize he was sitting in a puddle of his own fluids. Only, it wasn’t blood, at least not completely. The pinkish washed out splotches denoted blood but there was something else.

“Dean!” Sam scrambled back against the headboard, bending his legs at the knees and letting them fall open so he could survey the damage. He had absolutely no idea what to do other than find someone who did. “Dean!”

There was a thunder of footfalls coming up the steps, too many to be from Dean alone. Dean burst through the door with Bobby hot on his heels. He cocked his head at Sam in a concerned searching manner while he stood frozen, taking panicked breaths and looking for answers. “Sam?”

Pointing an accusatory finger towards the mattress, Sam locked eyes with his brother. “My water broke…it…it broke…and…fuck!” He grabbed his head in both hands, curling his fingers through the messy tresses. “There’s blood.”

Dean looked towards Bobby for the moment, each with their own curse. Dean dropped to the bed beside Sam and got a firm grip on his brother’s head, forcing the man to look at him. “Look at me, Sammy. Look at me!” Dean kissed the top of Sam’s head when he obeyed. “Listen to me, okay? You’re 36 weeks. It’s okay. And we knew there’d be some blood. That’s okay too. But we’re gonna have to call Dr. Csoka and get you to the hospital. You hear me?”

Sam nodded, covering the hands Dean had cupped to his cheeks with his own, preventing Dean from removing them.

“Sammy.” Dean’s heart broke for his brother as he struggled to hold it together. “You gotta let me call.”

“I’ll call,” Bobby cut in. “You get yer brother dressed and downstairs. I’ll drive too, before you crash the damn car.” He spun on the last word and trampled down the stairs.

“Come on, let’s get you dressed.” Dean kissed Sam’s hands after dragging them towards his lips.

“You’re gonna make sure it’s okay, right?”

Dean nodded. “Gonna do everything that I can. You know that.”

Sam gasped in pain and stopped thinking, tumbling into Dean’s arms while sobbing. “It hurts.”

“‘Course it does, Sam. You’re having a baby. Hurting is okay. Don’t think it’s not. Don’t let your mind go there.” Dean managed to strip Sam out of his damp clothing and was digging around for something clean.

Sam started panting oddly when the pain intensified. He was sure he was making ridiculous noises but he didn’t care. He tried evening out his breathing and locked eyes with Dean, who was nodding like Sam was doing something good so he kept figuring out how to breathe normally again. There was some comfort in the fact that the pain was a simple contraction. Had he not had any prior scares, the pain wouldn’t have made Sam panic. He’d probably be nervous but mostly he thought that he’d be excited.

Excitement wasn’t there.

Fear was.

At the end of a long waiting game, he was terrified to see where he and Dean would land.

He got his wits about him enough so that he could help redress himself. He was even able to make it down the stairs himself. When he exited the house, however, a pain hit him so hard it winded him. Coupling that with the panic already bubbling up in his gut, he vomited as soon as his knees hit the ground, chest heaving so hard it hurt. Coughing, he turned to Dean and didn’t even protest when he shouldered most of Sam’s weight. “Baby isn’t happy.”

“I guess that makes all of us then.”

Sam could tell by the look in Dean’s eyes that his brother wasn’t going to take well to seeing Sam in pain with no viable options to make it go away. That part was up to Sam and, he supposed, their baby.

The ride to the hospital was fast. Sam had the window open and for a crazy moment he contemplated sticking his head outside of it like a dog in hopes that the wind would take the pain with it. He was also hot as hell, sweat gleaming on his forehead as he braced himself for another contraction. He couldn’t stop his hand from making soothing swipes over his belly even if he tried; the motion was seemingly engrained in him. Vocalizing every breath with loud pushes of air, he groaned into the pain.

When they pulled up to the hospital, it was Bobby who helped Sam out of the car while Dean ran inside.

“You,” Bobby bit his lip like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how. In lieu of words, He curled an arm behind Sam’s back and let the younger man lean on him should he need to as they made their way inside. “Yer gonna be fine, you idgit, you know that.”

“Not worried about me.” Sam snorted.

“Yeah well, that’s gonna be fine too,” Bobby said like he said everything else he believed to be true, like the sentence was a preordained fact and Bobby was the only one clued into it. He gave Sam a serious look before making their way towards Dean and a nurse standing by with a wheelchair. Before parting ways he went in for something that passed for a hug but was quick enough so as not to stir too many emotions. He pointed a menacing finger at Dean. “You! You take care of him or I swear…” He let the threat stop there, giving it as more of a habit than something he had to actually remind Dean off, and walked towards his illegally parked car.

Fortunately for Sam, Bobby’s call had the hospital prepared for their arrival but there wasn’t much rush since his labor turned out to be a slow one. With Sam’s water official deemed ruptured, the doctor on call let them both know there was no stopping Sam’s labor but they did have enough time to make sure the baby was prepared to enter the world. 36 weeks wasn’t ideal but it was safe enough to deliver a baby, especially after the high risk pregnancy Sam had made it through.

They paged Dr. Csoka and while they waited for him, the nurses got Sam hooked up on an I.V. and antibiotics to make sure infection wasn’t an issue.

His contractions don’t seem to know what they are doing, speeding up and then spacing out.

Sam was miserable; he felt like he deserved every minute of it.

He tried to curl up on the bed, burying his face in the pillow as he groaned through a contraction and the feelings of yet another stranger poking around at his opening. He was wearing a medical bracelet with someone else’s last name on it and knew Dean was sporting a matching identity. Dean was brushing his hair back and trying his hardest to make Sam forget about everything but it was impossible with the pressure in his hips.

The on call doctor pushed up from between Sam’s legs and tossed his latex gloves in the waste bin. “You’re 5 centimeters dilated. Honestly, I’m surprised, considering the lulls in your contractions.” He tapped the I.V. stand to Sam’s right. “This could take a while but we’ve got you on some medications just in case while we let you labor on your own for a while.”

Sam nodded. “But…the baby’s okay?” Sam scrunched his face in discomfort and stared down his doctor.

“Baby’s fine.  See?” He pointed to a fetal heart rate monitor. “The baby’s heart rate is good and holding steady. You want to see it stay somewhere between 120-140 beat per minute. It shouldn’t vary too much before, during and after contractions.” Smiling at Sam, he gave him a sympathetic pat on the knee. “I know I’ve never seen you before but from the looks of your chart, the baby’s health was never the issue. It was preventing the amniotic sac from rupturing. Now that you’re in labor and that isn’t a concern, I don’t see why you wouldn’t have a very normal labor and delivery and a healthy baby.”

Dean licked his lips and mulled over the doctor’s statement. “But the baby’s four weeks early. How bad is that?”

“Not more than a full term baby, really. The lungs should be fine by now but you’re right on the cut off for a premature baby classification. Worst case situation is that the baby has a hard time adjusting to the outside world and need a little help in the NICU. Right now your labor isn’t even close to being regulated. We’re going to continue to monitor both of your vitals and as long as the baby isn’t showing signs of fatigue or distress, we’re going to let it take as long as it wants. We’re gearing up for a natural delivery but we can do an emergency c-section if things don’t proceed as planned. I’m sure you’d like to avoid it but I just want to be honest with you.”

Dean’s hand slowly tightened around Sam’s and he looked down on his brother, biting the corner of his lip and waiting for Sam to make the next move.

Except, Sam didn’t; he couldn’t. He stared at the doctor, teeth clenched despite breathing heavily. Part of him wished they’d just cut this kid out of him and give him another scar to remember what an asshole he’d been. The other part was afraid to deliver the baby into such a scary world. Oddly, as much pain as labor was causing him, Sam wanted to keep his and Dean’s child inside him, even if it was only a while longer.

“I guess it’s easy for me to say, but you’re in good hands.” The doctor sighed, giving Sam a compassionate smile. “We are going to take care of you two.”

Dean stood up to face the man eye to eye. From years of having Sam’s care in his own hands, Dean was never any good of letting other people have a crack at it. Everything about him was fiercely protective and threatening. “You better take care of him because…I…I made a promise and….” He sighed and rubbed a hand over his beard growth. “I made a promise.” The words weren’t intimidating anymore. They’re saturated with emotion and air on the edge of a plea.

The doctor seemed to understand and nodded. He put one hand on Dean’s shoulder and nodded again. Without another word, he left the room.

Sam wanted to cry.

*************

Sam yelled out and curled into the side of the bed. For as many times that he’d gotten his ass handed to him or the shit kicked out of him, he was in the worst pain in his life.

“Shh Sammy, it’s okay.” Dean reached over and pushed his hair to the side.

Sam stayed buried in the sheets, letting the fabric muffle a moan. He fought through the remainder of the contraction with his hands fisted near his face. Coming back down from it, everything still hurt but it was bearable enough to think again. “I’m not good at this.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? From my standpoint, I’d say you’re pretty fucking awesome. That doesn’t look like a walk in the park. I don’t think anyone would say you’re not the strongest person I know.”

“You need to meet more people,” Sam quipped before curling around himself. He’d thought that keeping their baby in would be safer, so that he wouldn’t have to deal with the unknown but pain was making him delirious and if Dean smiled at him one more time he was going to bash his brains in. He was, however, able to keep that to himself for now. Most of his brain knew that Dean was just as nervous about the situation and the only way his older brother knew how to deal with it was to worry over Sam. He’d deal with Dean’s couching. He owed that to his brother.

“How you holding up?” Dean sighed and ran a cool washcloth over Sam’s forehead.

“You go through seven billion contractions and then we’ll talk.” Sam groaned and closed his eyes. “Heartbeat is still okay, right?”

Dean looked at the machine’s monitoring his baby “Still good. Still 130 beats per minute.”

“Thank god.” There was comfort in the fact that even though Sam’s contractions had been getting more intense, the baby was handling labor better than either of its parents. Feeling hot again, he flipped the blanked off of him and gathered up his hospital gown so he could see his belly and the sensors taped across it. His belly look weird, completely different to the soft curve it had been a few days ago. It was hard and tight, so much so that Sam could feel the contraction building up when he pressed his hands against it. “Fuck!” The pain built and skyrocketed past any threshold. “Holy nngh!” He grabbed onto Dean and squeezed his hand hard, letting out a groan as a contraction peaked. He splayed his legs and pitched forward with a loud gasp.

Dean’s eyes landed on a very concerning red splotch on the mattress between his brother’s legs. Lacking any type of attempt to soften the blow, Dean skittered out of his chair so fast that it clattered to the floor. “Shit, Sam. You’re bleeding.” Automatically his hand went to the call button before he made an attempt to control himself. His fingers traced up Sam’s thigh on impulse, searching out for a wound that far exceeded his medical abilities. His face fell into one of panicked helplessness. “Fuck, don’t freak out Sammy, but you’re bleeding.”

The hypocrisy of those words didn’t escape anyone.

Though he heard his brother, Sam was too caught up in pain to react verbally. A shot of adrenaline hit him hard, making him shake and choke on a breath. There wasn’t supposed to be any more blood. He’d banished that possibility to his nightmares. It was there, however, wet and bright when he managed to locate it. He screamed and squeezed his eyes shut.

When he opened his eyes a nurse was hovering near him, trying to get his attention. He punched her. It was a reflex and Dean had to grab him by the shoulders long enough to bring him back to reality.

The nurse was stunned but she bounced back quick enough to let on that this wasn’t her first rodeo. “Sam, sweetie, I’m not going to hurt you. Promise. I need to check you out, try to figure out what’s going on.”

Nodding quickly, Sam let her swing his legs up into the set of stirrups at the end of the bed and held his breath.

Pursing her lips in thought, the nurse made quick work of her exam. “Yeah, you’re bleeding. It’s…well…it’s steady.”

For once, Sam wished someone would lie to him.

“You’re also at 10 centimeters. I need to get Dr. Csoka.” She gave a nervous glance to the blood stained gloves on her fingers and tried to smile. “Stay calm. Keep breathing through it.” She patted his hand before pulling away to page the doctor.

Dean punched the wall once before covering his face with his hands and growling in frustration. He kept his eyes closed for a moment, licking his lips and swallowing hard. Somehow, he pulled himself together enough to cup Sam’s face and kiss him. “I’m sorry, Sam. I don’t know what to do. I don’t…I don’t know.”

Sam’s breathing hitched in a loud hic-cough. He felt his eyes stinging as he fought to hold back tears. “I don’t know either.”

***************

Dr. Csoka’s presence made Sam feel better because even though he still knew he was in trouble, the man didn’t let it show on his face. He was a calm force who never let Sam feel like there wouldn’t be a healthy baby at the end of this whole mess.

From his seat between Sam’s spread legs, he spoke softly and reassuringly. “Alright Sam, I’m going to need you to push for me.”

Sam took a shuddering breath, trying to pull his knees closed. The stirrups the nurses swung his legs into made it awkward but he struggled to keep his legs together. “Can’t…blood…” His eyes darted around the room; there were too many people and too many machines when all he really wanted was Dean.

“Yeah, exactly. Blood. And we aren’t sure where it’s coming from. So you’re going to push and we’ll figure it out so we can stop it.” He looked up and got a glare from Sam. “Sam, listen to me. You’re ready.”

“No! Can we…can we wait? Stop the blood?” Sam’s eyes widened, flicking to Dean’s. Vaguely he was aware that he was flashing back to weeks ago when he’d been torn into a bloody mess. He got his knees together and scowled.

Shaking his head sympathetically, Dr. Csoka placed a reassuring hand on Sam’s legs as he slowly pushed them apart. “No Sam, you can’t wait.” He got the man’s legs spread and let them fall open. “I know you’re worried but it’s gone past any point where we could safely delay delivery.” His words were calm and kind. “Do you understand what I am saying?”

Sam had a retort on the tip of his tongue but he abandoned it when pain left him breathless. “Dean!”

“Right here. I gotcha.” Dean filled Sam’s world, letting the younger man lean against him. “I’m right here.”

“I can’t do this Dean. Tell them. I can’t. I fucked up too much. I messed it up already I’m just gonna make it worse. I can’t… I can’t keep the baby safe anymore.” Sam curled around his middle and grabbed out for the collar or Dean’s shirt. “Fuck.”

Dean’s voice broke, cracking from the pain of watching Sam struggle. “You’re not gonna mess up. Never have and never will. You made mistakes but you’ve more than made up for them. Right?” He pushed Sam’s sweaty hair out of his face and locked eyes with him. “You ain’t ever messed up so bad that we weren’t able to fix it. The baby’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine. Remember?”

“But blood…and…hunting” Sam’s concerns tapered off into a pant and he hoped the doctor took them as a side effect of pain.  His determination to hold out crumbled under the pain in his middle and he yelped. He wished everything in the room didn’t exist and Dean could make it better all on his own, in some ass backwards way that only Dean could. The pain built up again; try to deny it as he might, Sam knew he couldn’t stop the baby from being born. He felt the pressure low in his hips, lower than ever before.

“We’re doing everything we can for your baby Sam.” Dr. Csoka resituated himself and gave Sam a quick examination. He pointed towards a worrisome spike in the baby’s heart rate. “You see?  Labor is putting too much stress on both of you.  I know you’re scared but so is the baby.  Whatever you feel, it’s responding to it. The more time we waste, the greater the chance of you bleeding out and one or both of you going into distress. So we’re gonna deliver now but I need your help. Can you do that?” 

Sam just stared at the man between his legs. He was slapped in the face with the realization that his child’s life had started with him wishing it wasn’t inside him yet somehow got to the point where Sam was too scared to let it out of him. “Dean…”  His voice trailed off as he arched off of the bed.

“It’s okay Sammy.  I’m not going anywhere.” Dean grabbed Sam’s hand and curled both of his own around it. His pointer finger tucked in against Sam’s palms and started tracing out ruins – a habit he’d picked up years ago.

“You make sure everything’s okay.”  Sam squeezed his eyes shut as he felt another contraction.  “You promised.”

Brow furrowed, Dean was shaken to the core by the desperation in his brother’s words. “You’re going to be fine.”

Sam let out a hiss, pain breaking up their moment of reassurance.

Dr. Csoka rolled his stool closer. “Alright Sam, I need you to push.”

Sam did something but none of it felt right.  He let out a shaky breath and tried to push but it wasn’t at all like he’d thought it would be. “I have no idea what I’m doing!”

Placing two fingers near his opening, Dr. Csoka applied pressure. “You feel this?”

Sam nodded quickly.

“Good. Push all the way down here.  The baby’s head is right there, so give me good strong pushes.  You’ll get it out.” Dr. Csoka moved the material draping Sam’s thighs. “Give me a good push.”

Squeezing Dean’s hand, Sam let himself stop being afraid for the first time since his labor started.  Committing to a job was something he’d always been good at and he needed to see pushing that way in order to get through it. He grunted as he bore down.

There was something warm and wet on his thighs and a shiver ran through him.

“Come on Sam, you can do better than that.  Harder.”  The doctor’s words were calm but the severity of the command seeped through.

Gasping from the pain, Sam looked frantically at his brother. “Dean, I...” He felt the pressure build up again and ran from it rather than worked with it. Whatever was on his thighs shouldn’t be there and pushing had caused it.

“No, no, no.  Focus Sam, come on.  Big push.” Dr. Csoka’s voice was cool and collected. He looked up at Sam and nodded.  “You’re okay.”

“Shit.” Gritting his teeth, Sam pushed.  “Shit, shit, shit!” He leaned into Dean for support as he continued to bear down as hard as he could.

“Perfect. Come right back at it.” He monitored Sam’s push before reassuring him again.  “Good, again.”

Sam brought his chin to his chest and pushed.  His exhaustion from hours of labor made it hard for him to commit to the push as much as he wanted to.  He fell back on the bed with a gasp.  “Dean, oh fuck!  Ow.”

“Shh, doing good Sammy.  Really good.  Right?” Dean looked to the doctor with a warning glace.

“Right.”  Checking the monitors and noting Sam’s lagging energy, the doctor caught Sam’s attention.  “Relax Sam, don’t push for a moment.”

Sam could get on board with that.  He let out a huff and buried himself in Dean.  His lungs burned as they tried to get enough air and his heart was thumping out of control.

Dean kissed his temple and held his lips there. “You’re doing everything right, Sam.”

“Everything feels wrong.” He groaned and fisted the sides of the bed as he rode out a contraction.  Before he was ready, his brief reprieve was over and Dr. Csoka was telling him to push again. Everything in his body narrowed down into doing so.  An hour of trying to push and breathe at the same time dissolved into two and he was sure something was wrong. 

Determined to end this, Sam pitched forward and bore down harder than before.  “Ugh!”

“Good Sam, just like that.” Dr. Csoka leaned closer and supported the stretching skin as Sam pushed again.  “Perfect.  You’re crowning.”

Sam bit his lip while the pain in his middle radiated downward. “Thank god!”  He tensed his arm while pulling on Dean’s, using the resistance his brother was putting out to help him push.

Dean shifted closer, looking to where Dr. Csoka was helping the head emerge. “Holy shit, Sam. Push again like that.” He pressed another kiss to Sam’s sweaty temple before watching Sam work.

“Dean’s right. Just a few more pushes and the head is here.  Then the rest is easy. ”

Sam panted as his lungs spasmed in an attempt to get more air.  He pitched forward and bore down hard.  It burned but oddly he wasn’t afraid of it.  He’d never run away from something difficult and he came back at the push with so much intensity that he screamed before holding his breath and going again.

“Great! Really good. But,” Dr. Csoka caught his eyes. “You need to breathe.”

Dean grabbed his brother’s hand more firmly.  “Hey, Sam?  Sam?  Sam!  Look at me.”  He waited for Sam to make eye contact.  “You have to breathe.  You have to. I need you to breathe for me.”

Dean was begging.  That fact went straight through Sam’s bones.  His breath caught and his legs strained against the stirrups as he pushed.  “Arghh.”  Giving it absolutely everything he had, Sam pushed for the last time.  In a blurred instant he felt his child slip free and fell back against the bed, dizzy and hazy from the effort. 

“Baby’s out.”  The doctor caught the newborn and manipulated it around so he could clear the baby’s airways.  He needn’t have done much because the baby gave a loud, angry cry.

It shot directly through Sam and the exhaustion he’d felt melted away, replaced by a rush of determination to get his hands on the baby.  There was another loud cry, constant and wet sounding.  The baby was too new to know what it meant but the action was instinctual enough that the newborn knew it had to do it.

Dr. Csoka gave a glance towards his patient and something about his guard slipped long enough for Sam to catch it.

“What’s wrong?” Sam demanded.

“It’s a boy,” the doctor said by ways of steamrolling past the question.

That news should have made Sam smile.  It should have made him happy to have a son.  The comment meant nothing because he was too fixed on the fact that something was wrong with his baby. He heard another cry and something in his mind told him it wasn’t normal. It was too intense and loud, almost like the screams of pain Sam had been letting out to birth him. “Dean, something’s wrong.” He scrambled to get a grip on Dean’s shirt but his fingers felt numb and wouldn’t cooperate. “Dean!” Looking at his brother, he recognized the gleam in Dean’s eyes and knew it was taking every ounce of restraint to keep himself from roughing up some of the medical staff for answers. Physical aggression worked in more of their situations but a hospital was not one of them.

Dean pulled away from Sam and strode towards the doctor. “What’s wrong?” He got close enough to the baby to look down and the anger dropped from his face. “Why is there so much blood?”

“There’s…well…” The man looked at Dean in earnest and held out a bloody palm. The gesture was meant to reassure Dean but the blood on his hand evoked the opposite reaction. “He needs to be checked out by the specialists before I give you a professional diagnosis but…he’s…he’s breathing on his own.  He’s got a healthy set of lungs and he’s active.”

“Why is there so much blood?” Dean repeated with a growl, anger sliding back into place. “Why is there so much blood!?” He screamed it, getting closer.

“Dean, you need to back off.”

“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do! What the hell is wrong with my son? What’s wrong with him?”  His voice rose in frustration, unsteady as panic cracked through it several times.

“You need to calm down, Dean. We’re just trying to do what’s best for your son.”

Sam felt like a prisoner in his own body. Sensors were bogging him down and he was too spent to move, leaving him to watch Dean spiral out of control. He had no idea what was wrong with his baby and all the yelling made him start crying.

Dr. Csoka whisked the baby, wrapped in a bloody blanket to a team of NICU staff who’d filtered into the room.  Dean was hot on his heels, crowding into their personal space.  They moved further away and Dean grabbed one of the doctors by the shoulder and shoved him backwards hard enough to make the man stumble.

“Why the hell can’t you tell us what’s going on?  What’s wrong with you?  After…after…after you just saw what Sam went through…how could you not tell us?  What the hell is wrong with you?”  Dean fisted both hands in his hair and cursed.

“Sir, you have to calm down.” The NICU doctor said as he put up both palms in warning.

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down!” Dean spat as he shoved him again.

“That’s it.  You’re fucking out of here.  Security!”

A stream of curses filled the room, completely unprofessional and speaking as to how unexpected the change of events were. 

Suddenly, Dean was getting pushed out of the room kicking and screaming. He fought against security, acting more on the instinct to protect his brother than logical decision.  The doctors were trying to help, he knew that.  Still, he fought tooth and nail to try and get to Sam again, to get anywhere near the room. 

Sam watched him send a security officer slamming up against his room’s hallway window.

In five minutes Sam had his son and his brother torn away from him.

He was no good on his own.

***********

It felt like hours before anyone had actual news to give Sam.

Someone had been in to help with the afterbirth and deem everything in perfect order. The blood, apparently, hadn’t been coming from him.

He was totally fine.

It made him want to curl up and die because that meant the blood was from his son and the only cause for it could be something Sam had done.

He was left with his thoughts of self-hate until a security officer came in to inform him that they were going to let Dean back in to sit with him.

Apparently Dean had made nice or worked some manipulative magic. Either way, Sam didn’t care.  He wanted his brother; end of story.

He supposed, security must have understood Dean’s reaction. There had to have been other fathers who acted out with violence when their heart shattered over something being wrong with a newborn they’d barely gotten a chance to meet.

Dean rushed in the room faster than Sam had ever seen him move.  He looked pale and shaken, hands rubbed red from wringing them or punching things. Sam guessed both.

“Dean,” was the only thing Sam could get out before choking on a sob he’d been able to hold in until now.

“Sam, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry…” Dean grabbed one of Sam’s hands with both of his own and wound his arms around it.

Knocking his forehead against Dean’s knuckles, he refused to look his brother in the eye while he spoke.  “Do you think he’s dead?” His voice sounded as weak as he felt, as dead as he felt.

“Shut up.”

“Do you?” Sam pushed.

“Shut up, Sam. Shut up. Don’t even….” Dean coughed and started crying, wet splashes hitting Sam’s neck when he hid himself there.

They lost track of how long they didn’t move for. Sam thought they’d go on sinking into their misery forever if it hadn’t been for a tiny Korean woman with very short hair. She approached with caution, her steps smaller than anything Sam could manage.

“Hello?” Her voice was tentative, like she was testing out the men she was about to speak do. “I’m Dr. Yoo, a doctor in the NICU. Your son’s been under my care.”

“Took you long enough!” Dean snapped.

“I know and I’m sorry for that. The way things happened…that wasn’t intentional. It was never anyone’s intention to keep your son from you but some things are out of our control. Taking care of him too precedent over wasting precious time in explaining everything. And since we had no idea what was going on, we didn’t want to give you any wrong information.”

Sam licked his lips and dug deep enough to find his courage. “Is he dead?”

“Dead?” Dr. Yoo yelped in shock. “Goodness, no! He’s a fighter.” Her eyes saddened.  “Ohh, God.  You two thought…” She didn’t finish her sentences because she didn’t want to say the words out loud.

“He’s not dead,” Sam said because he needed to hear it again. “Dean, he’s not…”

“I heard, Sammy.”  Dean let out a crazy sounding laugh and shook the tension out of his shoulders.

“Can I sit?” Dr. Yoo asked as she gestured towards a chair. Waiting for a nod, she took a seat. “We’ll bring him in here for you to see but I needed to go over some things with you. When your son was born, he had something called amniotic band syndrome.”

Dean scrunched his face up in confusion. “Amniotic band wha’?

“Amniotic band syndrome or Amniotic band constriction. Basically, there are lots of elements that make up the amniotic sac that keeps your baby safe. One of those things is amnion, the inner of the two membranes around the baby. It contains fibrous bands that sometimes, when there is a partial amniotic sac rupture, get released into the amniotic fluid, where they float around. See, these bands are dangerous because they can encircle parts of the baby and cut off circulation as they grow, even going so far as to amputate a limb or what have you.”

Sam’s heart sank. He’d been prepared to hear that whatever was wrong with his son was his fault but it crushed his heart just the same. “Our baby has that?”

“Well, had that, actually. But, yes, there was a band that circled the baby’s left foot, just above the ankle.  You’re lucky, believe me. He’s perfect in all the ways that matter. His Apgar scores are high and all of his organs are strong and working properly. He’s eating; we were concerned about that since he seemed too focused on crying to bother trying some formula. The only thing that caused all this chaos is that he came out with a partially amputated left foot. It probably hurt him and he was bleeding pretty heavily because of it. It’s lucky you went into labor early, because…well, let’s not even worry about that.”

Dean landed with a thud against the chair’s backrest. “Our son’s missing a foot.”

“Essentially, yes. Only, it’s still there. We wanted to stabilize him first and make sure he was healthy enough to survive surgery. We have to finish the amputation. The foot’s there but it’s stunted and warped, effectively necrotic. If we don’t remove it then it will die and seep into his blood stream.”

“But…but…no one ever mentioned this before. Everyone said the baby was growing…that he was fine,” Sam said in search for understanding.

“That’s because, from what your doctor could see, the baby was growing. The bands are so small that they can’t be detected with an ultrasound and the foot was there, it’s just…deformed. Your records don’t have much to go by in terms of prenatal care so we’re not sure when it happened but we’re guessing some time after 25 weeks. I’m sorry. It’s nothing you two could have prevented.”

Sam shuddered at those words. “Yes I could have. I could have…I…It’s my fault I suffered the rupture in the first place. If that hadn’t happened then…the band wouldn’t have gotten into the fluid.”

“Sam,” Dr. Yoo said softly as she put a hand on Sam’s knee. “No one wants their amniotic sac to rupture early. You can’t be at fault for that. Sometimes it just happens. You fell, right? That was an accident, not your fault.”

Sam wished he could believe her words. For all she knew, he’d slipped and fallen. That was an innocent enough mistake.

Dean caught on to Sam’s train of thought and squeezed his hand. “So, he’s got to have surgery? Is that safe?”

“Yes and yes. It’s more routine than you think but we won’t do anything without your consent or you meeting him first. You want to meet him?” She smiled at the men before sighing when she caught on to their hesitance. “Don’t worry.  He’s healthy. I promise. I’m sorry this whole ordeal scared you so much but he was losing blood and we needed to take care of him first. You’d do the same thing, wouldn’t you? You’d put him first?”

Sam nodded.  “Can we see him?  Please?”

“Absolutely. I’m going to get him. I want to show you what I’m talking about and explain the surgery, but we don’t have to do that until after you get to know him.  Every parent needs their moment and we stole yours from you. I’m sorry for that.”

She zipped out of the room, her gait much wider than when she’d first entered.  She left Sam and Dean barely any time to talk before returning with a swaddled infant.

Time stopped for Sam. 

The baby was quiet and tiny in Dr. Yoo’s arms. Tucked into a blue knit cap, he was round faced and pink.  He looked like a wrinkly old man but when he popped open his eyes, they were soft and new.

“Oh my god.” Over the thundering of his heartbeat, Sam couldn’t hear anything. He reached out and grabbed the swaddled baby before Dr. Yoo had a chance to ask who wanted to hold him first. Since the second he’d heard him cry, Sam was searching for this moment.  His hands felt lost and twitchy without being able to hold the seemingly feather light bundle against his chest. Everything in his body hurt but at that moment he forgot everything. “Oh my god,” he repeated.

“Nothing to do with God, Sammy. All you.” Dean said with a proud smirk.

Dr. Yoo raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t question it. “You can hold him as long as you want. You deserve some alone time with you and I’m sorry you haven’t had it until now. I’ll give you some privacy. Hit the call button when you want me to explain the surgery to you or if you need anything.” She smiled and turned to leave. “Ohh, and you can feed him if you want,” she said as she offered Dean a premade bottle of formula.

Grabbing the bottle, Dean nodded his thanks. “And he’s okay…to…you know…look at?”

“He might cry because he’s cold but you can unwrap him. He’s fine. You can’t hurt him.” She waved them good luck.

“Thanks.” Turning back towards Sam, Dean’s face broke out into a grin. After the onslaught of emotions they’d ridden in the last hours, the expression suited him best. “That little guy is ours.”

“Yeah.” Sam stroked the baby’s cheek with his finger, smiling when he yawned. “Hi, baby.” His chest swelled up with so much love and adoration that it surprised him. He’d heard of parents saying that they felt that way after their baby was born but he’d underestimated it. “You made it, huh?”

The baby cooed as if to say “yeah, I’m here. Can’t return me” and Sam melted even more.  He smiled through tears and gently rubbed his cheek against the fuzz of hair on his son’s head.

“Dean, will I sound like I’m crazy if I tell you that he’s better than anything I’d ever thought?”

“You’re not crazy, Sam.” Dean shook his head and leaned closer. “That little guy? That’s all you. You did that. Do you realize that?” His eyes were wet and shining with pride.

Sam blushed and held the baby closer, kissing his head over and over again. He smelt sweet and clean; Sam was addicted. Who would have predicted that? “Well, I had help.”

“Only a little. You? You did that. You kept him safe. You got him here. You’re the fucking strongest person I know and I’ve never been more proud of you. Ever.” Dean tilted Sam’s chin towards him and kissed him.

The kiss was soft and slow, drawn out in just the right ways to make Sam know Dean meant every word. It made Sam’s eyes well up again and he pulled away, rubbing at them with the back of his hands. “Hormones. Sorry.”

“No more sorries from you. You wanna cry? Cry? Hell, I’m crying. I think this is the universal ‘everyone should be crying’ situation. I fucking love you and we have a son who’s alive and breathing so I’m going to fucking cry and you should too.” His words ended up getting jumbled as he took a sharp inhale of breath and wiped at his eyes.

Sam laughed. “Well, ‘I fucking love you’ too.” He was mimicking Dean’s prior declaration but meant it all the same. He wouldn’t have wanted this baby so much with Dean had he not loved him. “I can’t believe we have a kid.”

“I can’t believe I watched you have a kid.” Dean kissed Sam again. “I mean it. Fucking strongest person I know.”

“I’m going to use that declaration against you.”

“Can’t use it against me. It’s true.”

Smiling again, Sam looked down at the baby. He’d spent so much time ignoring him for the first few months and spent the last few months wanting him so bad that he’d made up for all the other months. There were parts of Sam’s brain that had let himself hope and plan for this moment. Now that he was here, it was surreal. “I wanna name him Trent.”

Dean defaulted without an argument, like he always did when he knew Sam really wanted something. “Trent it is. It’s a good name. A strong name, just like him. Right, Trent Winchester?”

Hearing the name spoken out loud made the baby more real, like he had a place in their family. “You hold him, Dean. Please? He’s been squirming like he always does when he hears your voice. Wants to meet his dad, I guess.”

Dean lifted the baby without an ounce of hesitance. “Hi, big boy.” The size of the term of affection was made more endearing by the fact that Trent was a pipsqueak.  “I’m the person you liked punching and kicking. Remember this.” He held out a palm and let Trent knock his balled up fist into it. “Yeah. I’m your dad.” Like the concept just dawned on him, Dean blinked at Sam. “Fuck, I’m someone’s dad.”

“Yep.” Watching Dean snuggle their son was doing crazy things to Sam’s brain. It was even better than getting to hold Trent. Dean looked like a natural; his arms protectively cradled the newborn in ways that spoke words for how infinite that devotion was.

“That’s insane.” He gave a proud smirk and looked down at the baby. “Wanna eat, Trent?”

In no time, Dean had the newborn chowing down. Trent suckled instantly, little lips milky and bowed as he ate. He kicked in a greedy attempt to get closer to the milk source and his blanket started coming undone.

Curiosity got the best of Sam and he reached over to expose Trent’s round belly and two twiggy looking thighs.  One leg ended in a wrinkly baby foot, the other ended in a swollen foot-like appendage. His breath caught as his heart broke. “Dean…It’s my fault.”

Dean looked down and acknowledged his son’s deformity. “No, Sam. It’s not.” Breathing slowly through his nose, Dean licked his lips. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time and I realized it’s not your fault. You know why? Because if you hadn’t done what you did, I’d probably be dead. And guess what? If that werewolf killed me, then you’d be next. You would have landed yourself in a fight anyway. If you hadn’t done what you did, none of us, _all three of us_ , would be here. So, see? You had no other choice. You did the right thing. And we’re all here. So what if he doesn’t have a left foot? It doesn’t mean I don’t love him just as much. It doesn’t mean you don’t either.” He kissed Trent’s head. “He’s perfect, even if he’s not. He made it this far; he’s going to be one hell of an ass kicker, with or without a left foot.”

“You mean that?”

“I mean that.”

Sam’s heart hurt due to the fact that Trent was born without a proper left foot but it also swelled to double its size over how amazing everything else about Trent was. He knew things would be more difficult for Trent but he and Dean were old pros when it came to all things difficult. He’d have no problem loving his son and even less of a problem in forgiving himself enough so that he’d be able to do so. “Yeah.  He’s perfect.”

************

Trent underwent a successful surgery three days after he was born.

Sam and Dean weren’t allowed in the operating room but they were allowed in the NICU while he recovered.

The first time Sam saw his baby with sensors stuck to his body, limbs limp with anesthesia, and bandages around his left leg, he’d almost vomited. His baby looked so helpless and small as the nurses stretched him out on a hospital cot to recover. The cot dwarfed him, making Trent look more teeny and lost.

He had a tiny hospital bracelet around his wrist that designated him as Sam and Dean’s that made Sam’s heart skip a beat every time he ran his fingers over it and read the word Winchester.

Sam was constantly awestruck by how tiny and fragile their son appeared yet how strong and resilient he was. He’d wowed doctors and proved to his parents that he earned his place as their son.

Under anesthetics, however, Trent was vulnerable; Sam went into clingy protective mode.  He laid his head next to Trent on the cot and stroked fingers over his body as if trying to memorize every detail of the baby’s body. He refused to leave even when the doctors told him Trent might take his time waking up from the surgery.

Dean found him there, sleeping alongside their baby, hair fanned out and exhaustion still clear on Sam’s face.  Dean picked up the protective guard where Sam had left off, watching over the two of them.

Neither of them budged.

Trent woke up and he woke up with a bang.  He wasn’t groggy for long, choosing instead to yell about his distress when a nurse came and ripped a sensor of his delicate skin.

Dean cheered him, “That’s right! Don’t let anyone push you around.”

Trent had a hard time bouncing back from the surgery for a few days. He dropped weight and needed a blood transfusion directly after the surgery, but overall, he recovered well. Sam and Dean never left his side.

The decision as to where the doctors were to amputate was an easy one, since Trent’s leg had started the process on its own.  They’d cut through bone but none of what they’d removed had grown the right way. When he grew older, Trent would need a prosthetic to be able to walk correctly but there wouldn’t be any adverse medical side effects. It left Trent with an angry looking scar on such an innocent looking patch of skin. Sam and Dean had to keep it clean and bring him back for follow up visits over the next few weeks. Otherwise, he was good to go.

They’d have to see a specialist and physical therapists and Sam had no idea what they were in for but those thoughts were for later.

Now they needed to get their kid far away from surgeries and operating rooms.

Bobby picked them up from the hospital, even got the worlds ugliest car seat to insure they’d be able to drive away with Trent.

He’d visited several times over the past ten days, posing as the baby’s grandfather to avoid questions and gain him access to the NICU.

Neither Dean nor Sam had any intentions of correction that lie, especially to Bobby himself.

He said something about Trent looking like John and ever since the words left his mouth, no one could deny it.  Sam liked the fact that there were parts of Trent that proved to the world that the baby was Sam and Dean’s, even if there were few people who would realize it.  Those people, however, were the only ones who mattered.

Bobby had held Trent, looking about as comfortable as a football player in a tutu, but he warmed up to cradling him in his arms so that they both felt safer about the process.

He hadn’t, however, made any comment as to what came next for the Winchesters.  It was almost like he deliberately avoided it.

“Bobby?” Sam asked the man as they waited for Dean to finish up with some paperwork and grab the stack of free formula the hospital promised them.

“Huh?”

“I messed up.”

“Messed up how?”

Now that he’d been asked, the words came tumbling out of Sam mouth like a waterfall. “I didn’t think any of this through…not really. I thought about getting Trent here safely and that was it. Do you have any idea how unlike me that is?”

The older man snorted and scratched at his beard. “Your back up plan has a back-up.”

“Exactly. I knew Dean and I didn’t have the type of life where a baby would fit into it but then it just happened all on its own and I started trying to figure out how to make it work. Only, I couldn’t. I mean…I can’t. Hunting with a newborn is impossible.”

“You two ain’t been hunting for three months.”

Sam knew Bobby had a point but it still didn’t settle anything. “We have no money and no place to live and now we’ve got a disabled son and I have no idea what to do.”

Bobby gave the man a halfhearted slap upside the head. “You bring him home, you idgit.”  The way he said home designated that he meant his own house, which wasn’t home without Winchesters in it.

“I can’t saddle you with that.”

“Who says you’re saddling me with anything?” There was disbelief in Bobby’s words and he ended them with a scoff. “You three are family. Family can’t saddle anything.”

“But Trent…he’s…” Sam bit his lip to try to keep his hopes from getting ahead of himself.

“He’s a baby and a damn fine one. He’ll manage.”

“We won’t stay forever.”

Bobby shook his head and pulled Sam in for a hug. “Boy, you listen to me. You stay as long as you want. I don’t want any arguments ‘bout that. But you’ll work for me. Just ‘cause you’re living under my roof doesn’t mean I have to support your lazy, troublemaking asses.”

“Wouldn’t dream about it.” Sam smiled when something clicked into place and he didn’t feel so lost anymore.  He didn’t feel like he had to jam himself into a lifestyle that was an ill fit.  His life, as it was now, worked.

“Now are we done with this feelings crap because I did this already with your brother and I think you two should get on the same page to save me the trouble of getting all emotional and shit.” Bobby complained but he did it with a smile and hadn’t taken his arm from around Sam’s shoulders.

He hoisted Trent into his arms and thought about him growing up at Bobby’s.

From something that wasn’t supposed to be part of his life, Trent turned out to be the missing part of it.  “Wanna go stay with Grandpa Bobby, T?”

“Oh naw, don’t start with the grandpa crap.” Bobby brushed away the comment but his face betrayed him and let Sam know he was lovingly complaining.

Sam shook his head at Bobby and kissed Trent’s forehead, making the baby go cross-eyed for a second. “We’re going to grandpa’s house as soon as daddy gets all your free baby swag. Sound good?”

Trent cooed before spitting up with a surprisingly loud burp considering his six pound frame.

He kicked his legs as his father cleaned him up and Sam couldn’t help but wonder who their son would walk to first, him or Dean.

Either way, he was banking on Trent doing more than walking.

He was going to give them a run for their money.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I know this story might have been a bit angsty but early season Sam is more broody and angsty to me. And don't worry, there is totally timestamp about Trent's first steps. Also - I had some trouble figuring out the pacing and layout of this story. My lovely cheerleaders helped me out and I am so thankful. Please let me know what you think. Comments make me smile. *hugs*


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